Extra Extra- Tories mirror chicken

*photo credit Francesca Woodman*

the pen is indeed  mightier than the sword- The weak will draw blood first. 

Daisy Willows

Shame on who ?

Me?

for having an opinion,

a view

Of the outrageous Manchester bombings.

Killing off innocent lives of younger generations.

Who truly wants to show who has global  dominion?

Silent politician  — the most deadliest opposition.

Spin a Democide on the innocents who make up the majority of our citizenship.

Deplorable act.

Corbyn speaks for young hearts with his  Robin Hood mannerisms.

Noble enough to plant a feather in his cap.

The conservatives  make a come back with  hyper  sensationalist  plan-

What a way to react.

Theres a difference between responding to the people

and scaremongering those into a statement of hatred against immigrants

Western Tempers raised to look to the East for another insane bomber converted by the Quran.

A classic destabiliser move  to keep the people less equal.

Social media doing her rounds — vicious terrorists — chuck the unorthodox  bastards out.

Who funds the organised crime unit?

Who knocks another nail into societies faction,

sense of community to sustain a world clouded in doubt?

The injustice of this hypocrisy makes me want to fall to my knees.

Please,  open your eyes-look ,

see

The bigger picture is not to look to a country living in a refugee crisis— riding it rough trying to traverse to safe shores on the tremulous seas.

No person in their right mind want’s to leave their own home.

What would you do to protect your family when you are staring at all your belongings obliterated into another political stitch?

Woven into the conditioned mind-fabricated lies — bursts of walmarts own clothes wash-Iron fist scented smokescreen.

A white wash to cover up the Theresa May in a niquab to bypass border control — look to true snitch.

Jumping from a sinking ship.

Is it not  to enough to destabilise the economy?

Divide the minds of the people  to instil a state of dichotomy.

Don’t buy into this cycle

Don’t let  the  Imperialists continue this barbaric  rule.

Capitalise on the vulnerable  they choose to keep less insightful.

Fundamentalist terror is home grown.

18-25 year olds orgasmic  omnipotence   can  save the united kingdom.

not just this is England , with  welsh sheep murmurs whispered across clouds seemingly made out of foam

Venerable private pensioners ,I respect your views

Wake up from this nightmare.

 Giving up your unneeded winter fuel tax allowance isn’t helping to secure a strong future our children.

Let sinners repent . Let justice and humanity  reign.

Have mercy  on those who live in the world we  are yet to share.

The stench of politics arrests my heart.

Don’t desensitise now

When death is  imminent for your fresh start.

Elysium can exist in this world not just the next.

Divine heaven!

Look up by all means –  It’s all generic text.

Look around and see the plight the innocents in this have to wage.

Stop this merciless hunt to cull young voices — remember the wisdom  a child imparts with a mere smile.

They are truly the ones who are sage.

This is not a foreign terrotist ISIS attack

If it is-

It has been funded by the most conservative ,vicious Tory pack.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Life challenge on a soundtrack

The challenge continues.

Thanks Meg!  😉 

Today’s choice needs a hint of epicness.

Put on my poker face but I’m a current of emotions inside. ha ha!

Another reason I chose this is because,my uncle made a joke that my Gran looked like Don Corleone, at my wedding in June last year,in her wheelchair and wearing dark sunglasses.

Laugh, cry, live or die.

I’m putting on my armour – mere mortal that I am and,

for the next week preparing for battle with all things to do with organising a funeral for next Wednesday.

I remember standing in  my gran’ s room for 9 hours -maybe more . My Ma is super religious and she was telling my Gran to go to the light- just walk to it. She was telling her that she was ready for her to leave.

‘Leave – I let you go’

I don’t know if I’m sick and twisted,I mean we all deal with grief in our own ways but, I had this occurring thought that-my Gran wanted to sit up and look at my Ma and in a demonic voice go:

” There is no fucking light. Give me water, feed me.   I’m in pain – at the very least give me a dose of morphine, you inhumane bastards”

My ma kept on asking where my ( dead) Grandpa and Aunt were. Why they were taking so much time to collect Gran to take her to heaven.

Sarcasm got the best of me – I was thinking ‘who in their right mind would come back to this shit hole?’

If I went to  a country and got food poisoning or a strange illness. I would not go back to that place because of my previous association with the place.

72 hours.

That is how long it took her to go.

Here is my biggest thought. It’s not pretty and it’s highly unsentimental.

I think; because my ma was ready to say goodbye that is why Gran is dead.

No, I’m not saying she killed her. There are many laws blurred with the assisted dying law. I am pro for it only, if it’s not dressed up as the blessing and will of a God.

I think if we had nursed her back to health -given her water, kept her in the hospital, fed her etc…

She would still be here.

She would still be the vacant shell of the woman she once was -living in a bed,24/7, surrounded by iconic pictures and statues of some white Jesus,who happened to be a shoddy carpenter but a damn good healer/shaman/ trickster – idk 😀 figure that out 😂

The doctor wouldn’t give her pain relief because she didn’t look like she was in pain.

She had vascular dementia and Alzheimer  – her body couldn’t respond -neither could  her mind.

Just because she was wasn’t thrashing about -making a nuisance of herself;

Does that mean she wasn’t in pain?

If It took me 72 hours of

no food, water, people looking at me crying, and me with a rosary bead around my neck,  to hopefully, slip away

“peacefully”

I can assure you – I would be in severe pain – if not physically,  then most certainly mentally.

I choose the  battles to fight.

It doesn’t matter what I believe because the fact is: she is not here.

My  own beliefs or even my daughter’s theory that she is ‘ hopping from one aeroplane to the next travelling the world ‘ or whatever.

It’s a  comfort to me that I can’t see her in that care home -wasting away.

I don’t know what possessed me to do it!

I’m analytical and an observer -It was about 10 pm on Saturday night. We were all tired. Gran was awake- not dying …..   ( if this comes across as disrepectful – please bear in mind,I have my own beliefs about religion and dignity in dying)

My Ma had fallen asleep on the cushion part of the bed, my gran was lying in her bed and, hanging on the wall in the background, was a picture of his lord’s son  ,  most merciful saviour.

I have the picture  on my phone.

It ‘s a picture that shows that humans suffer.  God’s don’t move from their paintings and show mercy.

if that were true there would be NO suffering in the world.

The picture shows a dutiful daughter , exhausted and full of love, refusing to let her mother die alone and scared,

watching over them is some picture of the son of a God doing- fuck all.

I won’t put this picture on here out of respect for my family.

It is an image that clearly expresses my inner conflict about my love and duty towards my family and my own beliefs about life and beyond…..

I particularly like my daughters belief that my Gran is rocking it on Jupiter.

That is where I would go – screw heaven!

They’ve denied entry for this amount of time. Sure they can hang on for a bit longer.

I’m going travelling . I don’t need money.

Anyway,

The challenge is not only a blog challenge but it’s about challenging  myself to move forwards

Today is all about:

choosing  make up for my gran to wear – she’s being cremated( she wanted to be buried),   choosing flowers, travelling around the country side picking up various legal documents with my gran’s social security number and evidence that she is dead.

My gran has been treat by the government with more respect now she is dead,than when she was alive.

I sound angry , bitter.

I’m not. I’m glad she’s not suffering.

I hate hypocrisy and injustice and I speak my mind often, especially  when I  care about something or someone.

I fell out with my tutor about my TMA 1  script because of our different perspectives on the homelessness crisis.

Come on ,

This is my character.

I will be 40 years old in 4 years time. I’m set in my ways just like jelly.  :D😁😁😁😁🤔🤔

I can learn new tricks if tempted 😉

 I tag the music  challenge to other characters (bloggers)

SUMMER 

Sheldon 

In my defence,

 I  know I speak my mind and heart.

It’s not always appropriate but I do mean well. I love fiercely. I am there for my mother until her last breathe. I have her back. I will lay my life down for her.  Many times I’ve manned up and apologised (to people)if I went overboard  and said let’s agree to disagree.

That’s fucking dramatic – ha ha!…. let’s do this!

 

 

 

loop of mankind

When I think of the word History, I think – ha ha!

No- erm….

I think of all my experiences.

I think of all the times I never listened to others, all the adventures -risky and dangerous -that I took myself on.

I think about where I am today – or rather how I think about my personal history.

I find it useless to blame my parents or ex-partners or people who abused me at whatever age- not because I don’t think they had an impact on some of the decisions I made in life.

Some people were held accountable either by the law or good old karma and others went and still continue to go through their own life shit.

I can’t do anything to change my history. I can’t make a person talk me  ( I can try to and have done) or love me or want to know more about me.

I find the more I rag at my past or people in my past – the less productive I am in my present life.

When I come to terms with say, a childhood experience or heartbreak/betrayal and  I decide to forgive (not forget);

I’ve seen how this conscious act to look ahead instead of looking backward has helped me deal with my past, in unexpected ways.

Classic example:   I was very hurt about the relationship I had with my Dad for many years and then, when I decided to focus on how I could try and move our relationship forward, Life found a way for us to have some kind of relationship.

He lives in Africa. I’m in the U.K. and I really love those silly IQ tests /knowledge tests on Facebook and so does my Dad!

 It’s our time together. It’s a way I have found to get to know my dad, have a laugh, feel connected to him and it’s helped me see my Dad as a human.

 I have been able to talk with him  on skype and let him see who I really am- Who I have grown up to be. I’ve had the uncomfortable ‘I don’t know what to say’ and worked through it. 

This is just one example.

I think if I had carried on being on the offensive – not being contact with him and thinking and feeling whatever it was I did, I don’t think I would have some part of my Dad in my life today.

Should he have reached out? I’m not even going there.

The point is I know how to reach out to people, I know I’m in control of me.

I don’t always get it right.

When I think of certain people and situations I’ve caused or found myself in- I can be confrontational and maybe those people aren’t ready or in a place to be a part of my life in a way, I want them to be.

It’s hard for me to accept other people’s choices.

 I don’t give in.

I’m stubborn.

The people I make time and effort for in the past or now- I do genuinely care about these people.

Eventually, I have to respect that not everyone wants me around or likeS me or …..who knows what they think!

 So, I have to suck it up – cry, refocus my energy and live my Life.

I don’t forget these people.

I often want these people to succeed even the people who made life hell for me.

The people who tried to bring me down – one  example,

At my hen do. I was looking good, my mental state was great and I felt good about me and I had an energy around me. I invited a bunch of friends out and one of the girls who I met through a relative – made the remark

” You’ve put on weight haven’t you”  

My mates were horrified knowing how far I’ve come with my issues.

 It took a couple days for my rage to kick in. I had it out with her and then I decided this girl has a LOT of her own issues.

Her life hasn’t been easy and isn’t and I’m not going to fall for it.

So even today, I big this person up. I encourage her to achieve dreams. I’m not best mates with her!

  Fuck, I’m not stupid. ha ha!

I need positive people around me.

I just realized that she saw something in me that maybe she didn’t have and it’s easier to try and bring a person down than be happy for someone.

Not everyone is on the same level of thinking you and I are on.

We all have a narrative, a past, a history. We deal with ourselves 24 hours a day.

Sometimes we try to escape from ourselves,

We drug ourselves to get away from ourselves.

Be it with sugar, food, cigs, weed, prescription meds, alcohol, crack, spice, legal highs, extreme sports, sex, porn, money.

I’m glad I’ve had people run me down in life.

 I’m not ecstatic about it but I can see the benefits of it – looking baaa ack over my shoulder…. ( like the song)

I am a person who is genuine, I have empathy, I filter my judgments, I forgive, I set boundaries, I reset boundaries.

I know what I believe in- what I am passionate about.

People do still challenge me.

 I’m  an observer and I ‘ve learned how to respond to certain types of people. Some people need to be spoken to how they speak to others.

If someone doesn’t get me -I’ve learned there are many who will and do.

I just put myself out on a limb and it feels like torture but I hang in there -until I’m just about to give up, then somebody or something comes into my life and reaffirms what I believe in.

I’m not saying my beliefs and values and the way I live are right for everyone but they are right for me.

I know what I need to work  on and I do ask for help.

January is coming to a close –

no more Just January Jots.

 

 

I’ve enjoyed the word prompts. I never know what will come out of my head.

 

It’s sunny and I have lots of work to do and I’m feeling optimistic, scared and determined.

Thanks for reading

 

politics in ‘the willows’

*politics for me, is a mind, body, and soul connection*

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In 2008 I watched this video of 12-year-old, Severn Cullis-Suzuki,  delivering a speech about the state of our planet and a plea to humanity at a global U.N. conference

I’ve watched this 5-minute clip more times than I can possibly count.

Here it is

The point to all this is that I shared this video on my FB personal profile and  received a fair comment

‘Wonderful, inspiring girl but what good has it done the world?’ 

This prompted me to do a bit of research on who and where this girl or lady is today.

Read more about this incredible woman

HERE  – you won’t be disappointed.

WOW!

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IMAGE SOURCED FROM HERE

I can assure you, I feel more optimistic about our future. This empowering person continues to make positive changes to healing our world. She works her ass off. I hope my daughter and future generations follow her example.

Randomly, (that’s me) I  sent a message just to say keep up the good work and got a reply!

As if!

Here it is

P.S. I’m so happy, I’ve figured out the reason I am not getting all of your updates in my emails! Go me! Thank Gary @ food is fiction for helping me organize my blogging world.

Expect me popping up more in your blogs 😀

P.P.S.

 JOIN EARTH CHARTER- Values and principles to foster a sustainable future  – You can keep your money to yourself if need be – just be a part of the environment you and your family and loved ones live in!

Necessity bares echo

It’s easy to get caught up in the negative jumble yard sale and pick up everyone’s  discarded trinkets or  junk. Gladly, I’ve handed over my money – my energy and the energy of the  remnants of the previous owner’s objects stain my fingertips.

The swirly parts on my fingertips- the ones that make me one of a kind – mutate into something I am not.

Ghost-like.

” call the Priest -exorcise this impurity.” 

How do we pick up other peoples junk that looks pretty and appealing, without losing our confidence, and faith in who we are and who we have become?

It sounds so clinical to state:

 get a pair of synthetic gloves on and retain your true essence- don’t allow the memories and beliefs of others,to  poison your very own mind.

But, isn’t that artificial ?

I pride myself in baring my soul. Telling it like I see it. Standing up for my beliefs.

I get shot down  many times-  Cry for a bit – tell the world:

“I give up! ”  

Then the boomer rang effect inevitably comes  back around – smashes me in the head with the haunting words  “I give up!” 

I hear this echo .

” Oh no, you don’t.”

 I start counseling this echo – It’s distant from  me, not me.

 I don’t  have to take my  own advice if I have released it into the universe in one exclamation of defeat.

It’s a reverse psychology technique that works its groove on me. The equivalent to some hot guy actually bumping and grinding against me and not pissing me off.

A feat that is almost impossible.

It doesn’t sound like my voice. I can  give the echo advice. I can “big it up”

I can talk to  it into standing up and fighting for its right to be heard and I tell it

“You can evolve from a mere echo – fuck narcissus literally or metaphorically and leave him to it. “

“Let him drown in his reflection – pooled – snookered. chalked – marked . boxed in.”

“Chump.”

When you challenge what others say about you , to you or what they think of you – you may come across as confrontational  and emotional -defensive even.

 Only you can allow yourself the chance to evolve from an echo that gets lost in the underwater caves – that will  die when the tide comes bubbling in.

Don’t let it die in the spindrift.

 Let it evolve into a voice.

Your voice can speak on behalf of so many who don’t even know or  even have to know what you are doing.

It’s allowing growth to occur – it’s building character.

Someone , who hasn’t found their voice yet- somewhere down the line – possibly living  the bear necessity life, will hear it.

It could come from another voice  – passed down like a traditional story  Isn’t that how stories first evolved?

Isn’t that people first learned how to take  in information that we feel is important to pass down ?

Isn’t that why we can write paint, talk, act, dance, move , protest, make peace, argue ,debate, remember,honor,  create?

It  can take one person to blow apart everything I have worked for.

 I throw out my’ I  GIVE UP’ boomerang  – it comes back  in another form

I write about it- moan , grumble, collect evidence to fight my very own standing rock.

I,  too need clean  water to live.  Pure Air to breathe.  I need passion to live.

If I allow one character to crush my passion – what then?

What was the point of  baring  my soul to the world?

Of  not being ashamed  airing all  of my experiences, who I am  and what I’ve done ?

 Hang  out my entire newly washed, passion fruit scented lingerie collection ,in the densely packed  , over populated jungle I live in . Free to be dissected, analyzed, mocked ,admired ,mimicked, ignored.

I write plagued with doubt .

 I hit publish.

I take the time to thank the people who inspire me and get me, and then all of a sudden – the world – parts of energy sense a spirit giving  out and not holding back.

These  energies group together , have a cup of herbal tea and a catch-up and then -I get an email – validating my  voice, what I do.

I get a:

” Wow thank you – I needed this – I can’t accept it in the way you want me to but I will give you this….

 compromise.

This gives me the strength to fight my wars, my battles – a new era begins tomorrow.

I’ve developed lock jaw – not letting go of this one just yet.

I want to see what doors close and what doors open

I want to see the lights illuminate the path I am on.

If only to see the shape of it;

my future.

 If I can’t see that – I have no hope.

Without hope, I have no beat-  then it is time to call in the clubs and spades.

So, give up , take a  breather , read the terms and conditions, ask for feedback from more than one source, look at those around you- those strong people who manage to carry on with a smile their on the face.

I don’t know the outcome of this particular situation or most situations I put myself in.

 I do  have a goal no matter how blurred.

I do know I have to  go  into every experience with an open mind, a solid form , confidence, boldness and the idea that:

I may be wrong,

or

I may be right.

Maybe a bit of both ?

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the ungrateful one

Higher consciousness.org  broadcasts live video of a man flying in outer  space.

Caption : What are you THANKFUL  for today?

 Solo,

I  go against all those who fold in with

it’s a day to count our blessings.

Slavering ,table drummers –we will rock you with our forks and our knives.

Salacious portions of the second road runner-up to the national bird, cooks amongst natures already  abundant  offerings of food.

No meat!

 Poor hostess.

The feeders  may all come at you in unhinged straight jackets, disturbed little bees in honeycombed hives.

 We don’t get the message – our mother earth  shakes her head in dismay.

Excuse me for the cynical distaste.

Maybe -it’s the Black Friday orders of the soon to be  penniless mourners that leave me to wonder,

if I’m the only one who believes in the promotion that counting one’s blessings should cover more than one  day.

Awareness of what we have and have not.

Awareness of what we know and should know,

should not be chalked up -spelled out in the toddler soup of the day.

Tomorrow -one  damp rag across the blackboard , one teardrop of rain – one scribble away,

can change all we are a boon for.

 One day is not enough to keep up the movement -that unifies us – when we come together to complete mandalas sun – each  our own  beatific ray.

Orphans of humanity  we plead for more.

Callous rant – as rough as  the skin on my feet – routinely  massage cream into them every evening ;

 be consistent with our moral compass .

That is how we can land on our feet- no cat with nine lives or suspicious  minded dreaming.

Consistent

care-

every day of the year.

Call out your own judgments when it flashes past -cognition held up -brain powder – slow  control release,

 regulate the filtering in  and out of brainwash  sluice  glugged down in unrecognized fear.

Fear of what?

Change.

Nothing will change if we don’t make it so.

Sow what we reap -reap what we sow.

I sense a preacher inserted that quote in serendipitously ,only so I could attempt to allow this rant to flow.

So be it.

Of course, I am grateful for all that life has given me – dazzling in wealth of the simple things,

all there- for me to quietly contemplate upon bestow.

The furies, the mad rush, the gluttony,  the ego of humanity – homeless men and children invited in for one meal – one day .

Please don’t touch  the brand new fluffed up hand towel.

Would a homeless person even have the culture to know to wash one’s hands before praying for this feast -making sure to appear humble in the glare of your Lords softened scowl?

Bacteria – one culture – it’s enough to let him wash his hands in the kitchen scullery sink.

What is he to know ?   water is water – surely this should cleanse our conscience   attempt to pummel fists at our conflicting thought process arena- enough well placed blows and we will return to our white sheep – one dip – one vision – contemplative blessed day, lucky are those who can think.

envision a person who swoons effortlessly – a  home is no show museum in an attempt to wow family and friends to incite:

 Don’t you wish you could pull all of  this off on this most  thankful besmirching day?

Newly formed speech bubble  of Radical  congregation thought -branches of hate and envy.

Group Faction fractions,

was never my strongest subject at the school of life in preparation.

Soul hack – stumped and blinded .

I left young – fled.

I knew it was a ploy to mollify me.

I’m no Einstein  at arithmetic but may I be so  bold to ask surely there is more in the power of one?

We have the ability to stand down in peace, for one day, in our millions – united in blessific glee.

Or, do we all have continue consuming archaically stoned ?

Prompted into Martyrdom ,

to accept the first prize of a well acted boon?

In the promise of 50% discounted TV.s and-and Suv cars with 0.1 miles on the clock, ready as an incentive to  live as we  already should ,

with a marked line, curving upwards indicating we have enough and are already happy?

 

Soul Selfie

Random thought on a Monday morning

I see a lot of articles about relationships and other people giving you tips/advice if you are dating the right person if that person loves you etc..

The last one I saw – not on here , I will mention.

18 signs you have a good man  and a keeper!

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A thought suddenly  occurred to me:

If I need to go through a checklist of 18 signs written by someone else that I am with the right man/partner, then I must be with the wrong man because I am already doubting I am with a good man.

I decided to trust my gut instinct and scroll past the article.

I already know the answer.

I have a good man. I don’t need another person to tell me 1/10/18 or even 100 reasons why I know I have a good man.

I get it that people do fall into bad relationships and sometimes don’t feel able to Trust their own mind.

I have learned to trust my instinct and go with it.

A true journey of self-growth has bloomed in the Willows.

How liberating.

” Trust in yourself- the first thought that seems right is usually the right one- don’t second guess your ability to know what and who is best for you” 

DAISY WILLOWS

Just a thought.

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Back off to read Blogs.

Have a grand week and trust in yourself and your own decisions